


Pub Romance

by Castillon02



Series: Bond Women Loving Women [10]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castillon02/pseuds/Castillon02
Summary: Eve thinks that things have been going well with Madeleine...and then she realizes that she's forgotten about an important date.





	Pub Romance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoredBeingRegular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredBeingRegular/gifts).



> For BoredBeingRegular, who won a ficlet from me for 007 Fest 2017, asked for some fluffy Moneyswann, and is finally getting her prize just before 007 Fest 2018, orz. Your patience is deeply appreciated, BBR!

Eve sighed at her stein of beer, which remained unmoved by her pathos. It was only 16:30, so at least there was a while yet before Madeleine was due to meet her. Maybe even enough time to come up with some kind of last-minute miracle. M had let her leave early, as if he’d known about her plight, but really it was just that even _he_ had Valentine’s Day plans. (He was going out with his queerplatonic flatmate, who he never mentioned and who Eve pretended she didn’t know about.) She could follow his thought process completely: _If I, M the Stodgy, have a Valentine’s date, then there’s no way Eve Moneypenny the Beautiful and Clever doesn’t have a full evening in the cards. Let’s throw caution to the wind and leave before five today. No, even wilder. Before four-thirty!_

M had nearly skipped out the door.

Moneypenny had trudged to the pub to contemplate her romantic doom.

She had never really had to worry about Valentine’s Day before. She tended to date men who were well-off enough to buy her flowers, chocolates, and perhaps some nice lingerie for the occasion, but who were also just self-absorbed enough that they didn’t think to ask irritating questions about her job. As a consequence of the latter, these men had never lasted longer than the one cliché Valentine’s Day anyway.

Which was fine. Absolutely fine. Except she hadn’t had time for men in ages, because she’d been too busy going out after work with Madeleine Swann.

At first she’d been offering a friendly ear to a newcomer at Six who knew what it was like to be sucked into the whirlpool of Bond’s mad life. “Here, let me take you to dinner,” she’d said, leaning a hip against Madeleine’s desk. “You can tell me all about your first day.” It didn’t hurt to get on the good side of one of their new psychiatric professionals, either.

Unfortunately, as they competed over who could eat the hottest curry on that first night, Eve found that in addition to having an iron stomach, Madeleine could also make intelligent conversation about the job, about fashion, about Doctor Who—about nearly everything, and what she didn’t know about, she was willing to learn about. She was intellectually curious, but not intellectually snobby. She had a strong enough character to survive Bond and Blofeld both.

She was also stunning to look at, even when she had a smear of phaal curry across one cheek.

By mutual agreement, they began to have regular dinner dates, a “Same time next week?” habit that soon dissolved into “See you tomorrow?” Eve began gathering tidbits of trivia and ‘Did you know’s for their conversations like a bower bird feathering its nest with shinies. She kept spotting scarves, earrings, and jumpers in the shops, always thinking, ‘Those would just suit her.’ She’d started buying them for her. Even more recently, she’d started to actually give them to her.

Last week, Madeleine had started giving her kisses in return, and also a lovely umbrella that she’d commissioned from Q. It had an M engraved on the bottom, and if it ever came down to a contest between the stick of the umbrella and a human skull, the skull would break first. “I don’t like guns,” Madeleine had said, “but I like you being safe.”

A few days ago, they’d spent a lovely night at Eve’s flat, and the umbrella and Madeleine’s bra had both ended up hanging from the knob on the front door.

But Eve hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day. The gaudy array of pinks and reds in the shops hadn’t made a single impression. At first she’d been too happy to pay anything else any mind, and then she’d let bloody Bond on his bloody mission distract her from the outside world, and finally she’d got to work this morning, and Tanner had been whistling happily from behind an ostentatious bouquet on his desk from Miriam, and Eve had thought, _Fuck_. _Fuckity fuck fuck._

(Miriam gave Tanner flowers every year. Was that something Eve wanted? Tradition, longevity, certainty...commitment. Could she really commit to someone when she was already committed to the Service?)

(...Had she already committed to someone, and her heart was just waiting for her brain to play catch up?)

The workday had brought no epiphanies re: Valentine’s. All she knew was that she definitely wasn’t going to give Madeleine chocolates and flowers. (For one thing, Madeleine didn’t react well to the pollen.) Everything she thought of seemed too small, not romantic enough, not grand enough. And what about Madeleine’s plans? Would she have an extra special gift for Eve, and then Eve would have to confess that she had...nothing?

She was in the shit. However, at least she had an extra hour to panic about it. If all else failed, she could probably—

Eve sipped her beer and nearly choked on it when she saw Madeleine walk into the pub.

“Oh dear,” Madeleine said, patting her on the back before sitting down beside her. “You know that the Heimlich isn’t a traditional romantic gesture, yes?”

“About that…” Eve murmured, glancing away.

“But I have never been one for tradition,” Madeleine continued blithely, smiling her sphinx’s smile, and she set a card in a red envelope in front of Eve.

Great. At least Madeleine had had the forethought to pick up a card. Now Eve felt like even more of a heel.

But when Eve opened the envelope, the card turned out to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY on the front, only the BIRTHDAY had been crossed out and replaced by VALENTINE’S DAY in bold red Sharpie, with red hearts hastily drawn on either side of it.

“Oh my god!” Eve said, nearly laughing with relief. “We are a pair, aren’t we?” She opened the card.

Inside, Madeleine had written, _Don’t worry, I forgot about it, too. But I know you like having a plan, so I made one for us._

  * _Step 1: Order Madeleine’s favorite take-away._
  * _Step 2: Pick up one of those trifles you like from Tesco’s._
  * _Step 3: Eat dinner and make up increasingly convoluted rules to a sex game of our own design. Laugh. Topic of conversation is negotiable._
  * _Step 4: If you want, forget the rules and we’ll make out on the sofa._
  * _Step 5: Move to the bedroom?_
  * _Step 6: If we had sex, enjoy the afterglow. If we didn’t, enjoy some non-afterglow cuddling followed by moving to our own sides of the bed._
  * _Step 7: Remember the trifle. Eat the trifle in bed and feel good about our excellent decision making._
  * _Step 8: Put on some soothing ocean sounds and get ready for bed. Discuss if we could someday get a cat, and what we might name it if we did._
  * _Step 9: Agree that this was a nice Valentine’s Day even if we didn’t plan for it. Brainstorm what future Valentine’s Days might look like._
  * _Step 10: Go to sleep together, wake up together, and enjoy being girlfriends._



_P.S. Please make one of these for your real birthday so I don’t end up guessing wrong about what you want._

_C’est bien?_

Eve realized she was grinning madly. “ _C’est_ very _bien_ ,” she said, folding the card closed and setting it on the counter. “But you forgot step zero: ‘Thank Madeleine for being fantastic and give her a big kiss.’”

Eve stood up, put her hands on Madeleine’s shoulders, looked deep into Madeleine’s eyes, and got started on their Valentine’s Day list.

It wasn’t cliche, and it wasn’t grand, but it was _them_. And maybe that was all a real Valentine’s Day needed to be.

(...Eve was definitely going to go all-out for their anniversary, though.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 Constructive criticism is welcome.


End file.
